Hello, and welcome to the last ten minutes of Lawbender Frigday!
It’s been that kind of week.
I don’t really have much, but here is a pretty picture, and also part of a thing that I am writing:
Jennifer really isn’t kidding; her publicist is, in fact, the most put upon person in the world. Every day, it’s something else: Jennifer trying to keep her boobs from falling out while she’s halfway down the red carpet, Jennifer talking about kegels on national TV, who even knows what else. She’s been really good at rolling with the punches so far- which is good, because Jennifer throws a lot of them- but now she has absolutely, positively snapped.
"Jesus fucking Christ,” she says, putting her head in her hands, “what the fuck is wrong with you, you can’t actually fucking think you can date Michael fucking Fassbender.”
Jennifer is sitting up straight in her chair, feeling a whole lot like she’s in the principal’s office- not that she ever had a principal that swore like that. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
"Jen, you were in Teen Vogue last month and he can’t get halfway through a movie without getting his dick out. Look, if you’ve seen someone’s dick, nobody else can see it. Let’s make that rule right now." She looks up at Jennifer. "Young girls see you as a role model. If you care about that, this can never get out. Don’t let anyone see you together, and for the fucking love of fucking god, look out for cameras..”
So that’s about how it went, though she might have said “fuck” a couple more times.